


A She Wolf Goes Hunting

by TheCursor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27489598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursor/pseuds/TheCursor
Summary: A short drabble about how a Northern Prince is made
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

Her advisors had made it sound like political theater. 

“We’ll tell everyone its magic,” Manderly said, “We’ll say the spirit of Winterfell filled you and made a baby.” She had laughed at that but they seemed so terribly serious about it. She had recommended saying it was adoption but they all shook their gray heads. Had to be her baby and it had to be born out of wedlock. 

There were so many reasons why it had to be a bastard. The noblemen of Winterfell were too warlike and to exalt one as king over the rest would set off a thousand never-ending feuds throughout the country. None of them could be trusted with power. 

But if she married one of the hundreds of southern suitors who entreated her every morning in court, then the people of the North would be ruled by Southern kings and that was the exact thing they had just fought a rebellion to stop. 

She asked Gendry if he wanted to get married. He was a Baratheon, after all, and that alliance of the two families had been prearranged years earlier. But he looked out at the water beyond his castle and said no. There was only one Stark girl for him and he was still waiting for her. 

Finally, she asked another old friend for advice and got the only answer that mattered: “Just fuck Jon.” The Queen of the Iron Islands had said between bites of lamb.

At the time, Sansa had blushed, “He’s my brother!” 

“He’s your cousin,” Yara said, “And he’s got a face like a statue. If I were more favorable to men, I would have kidnapped him and chained him like a prize.” She then went into filthy detail of how Sansa should do the deed and suddenly she remembered why Yara was not invited to dinner more often.

The advisors recommended that she do it without his knowledge, that she seduce him. At one point she was told to invite him to visit and then when he tried to leave they would steal his horse and make him stay the night. That made her laugh, suddenly she imagined that her advisors viewed everything in her life as an intrigue.

She had written a letter to Ser Davos and he had been kind enough to tell her that Jon was pure of heart and the best way was simply to sail straight towards his horizon. 

So Sansa sat him down and explained it to him one night at dinner: The North needs a prince and it had to be his. It had to be a Stark and it had to be from a man who could not be king. He was still in exile, she explained, and he had sworn off all titles. 

He had been horrified at the time, even repulsed. “You’re my sister.” He had said, “And our children would be bastards,” His concern for her feelings was actually rather sweet and quite noble, “After everything that happened to you, I couldn’t…” His voice died off in sadness. 

The poor man thought she was a delicate flower. Sansa realized that he just didn’t have it in him.

She had not anticipated having to work this hard to get a baby, but this was for her country, after all. It was Sansa’s patriotic duty to have sex with the handsome man she had been in love with ever since she realized he was not her brother. Oh dear, she thought sarcastically as she started to disrobe, the endless suffering of the monarchy. 

He tried to look away but Sansa remembered all of the advice Margary had given her in the gardens so many years ago: “Make him look at you, take your clothes off and make him look at you. There are all sorts of muscles you can flex and positions you can use but that comes later. When it starts, make sure he looks at you.” 

Sansa walked over to him, naked, and grabbed Jon by the back of his head, and slowly tilted his eyes skyward. He had to look at every inch of her before they made eye contact again. 

“Come to bed.” She whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa watched her former husband, Tyrion Lannister, bow before her, "I bring you glad tidings from your friends in the Six Kingdoms and from your brother who rules wisely from the Stone Throne." 

Sansa smirked at hearing the words Stone Throne, that had taken some getting used to: a throne built by craftsmen instead of rampaging conquests. The child in her arms squealed when he heard the Southern Dwarf's voice. Despite his hideous appearence, he had a very soothing voice that the infant Catelyn seemed to enjoy. Sansa shushed the child quiet. 

"The Wolf Queen is pleased to have you among us, Lord Tyrion," Said Wyman Manderly, "She is always happy to see old friends." 

Catelyn cooed again and Sansa motioned to the nurse to take the girl away, "I'm sure Lord Tyrion knows I am pleased to see him, he can view my smile for himself, Lord Manderly." 

Manderly blushed a little and bowed his head, "I apologize, your Majesty." 

"Don't apologize, just don't do it again." Sansa's voice had a cutting edge to it and every fearsome Northern warrior in the courtroom looked as if someone had stepped upon their grave.

Tyrion laughed, the sight of Queen Sansa commanding a room full of Northmen was incredibly amusing to him, "I beg her Majesty's forgiveness for my Northern counterpart, being a Hand is difficult position." Manderly gave Tyrion a silent thank you for the assistance but Sansa paid the two men no mind. 

"I can command my realm without advice from idle old men, dear Tyrion." 

"I can see that," He said and then he turned and stuck out his tongue at Robb and Eddard, two of the princes who had been hiding behind their nanny's skirts, "I see three of the five, where is the rest of the Wolf Queen's litter I wonder? I brought the Crown Prince a gift." Tyrion motioned to Brienne, who produced a velvet bag in the shape of a mighty sword. The sight of it annoyed Sansa even more. 

"Oh a bloody sword," Sansa said with a roll of her eyes, "Princess Arya is playing with her hounds and Prince Samwell has been naughty and will not be at dinner." 

Tyrion nodded approvingly, he was always happy to hear a future king was being well disciplined, "Well when his Highness is released from his exile, I bring him the sword Heartsbane, a gift from his namesake, Samwell the Slayer." 

"The boy is eight, so it would perhaps be a bit inappropriate if he is granted a weapon by the Lords of the South." 

Tyrion bit his lip, "I am told that the gift was requested by his Highness' father." 

You could suddenly hear a pin drop in the room and Sansa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was a bit of a touchy subject among the local lords and it certainly could start an argument or a bloody fight if Tyrion wasn't more careful with his words. Wyman Manderly certainly looked like he was going to stab every Southern man in the room if the next words out of their mouths implied the "legend" of the Wolf Queen was a falsehood. 

"The Crown Prince has no father," Sansa said delicately, "I was visited by the Spirit of the North-" 

"-Five times. Yes, I know but Master Samwell was also visited by the same Spirit in a dream and told to surrender his family's sword to the future King in the North to make up for the vile theft of the Stark family sword." 

Sansa nodded, "Well who am I to deny the will of prophetic dreams." Very clever, she thought and made a mental note to thank Jon for the gift.


End file.
